Just a Matter of Time
by Forgive-Me-Severus
Summary: The destruction around me was unnerving. Unnerving to, let’s say, someone who hasn’t experienced it since their first year at Hogwarts. To me, it was normal. To me, it was life. To me … it was expected.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places nor any other contributing factors in Harry Potter. I'm not that lucky.

A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything. I hope to get back to some of my other stories in the near future, but I am content, for now, with this story that just popped into my head tonight. Please forgive me, for those of you who have been faithful readers, for the lack of updating in nearly two years. Life just got in the way. Anyway, this is a short prologue to see if anyone's interested. The summary doesn't give too much away; it's just meant to bring readers in and let them decide if I should continue. So, if you will, review and let me know what you think. :)

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Prologue

The destruction around me was unnerving. Unnerving to, let's say, someone who hasn't experienced it since their first year at Hogwarts. To me, it was normal. To me, it was life. To me … it was expected.

What was not expected, however, was the chaos that ensued on the grounds of the safest place in Wizarding England: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Things seemed to move in slow motion that night; the invasion of the school, students being ripped from their beds to help fight a war not their own, the green sparks racing toward me that I saw before I heard their command. I saw the Killing Curse before I heard Harry scream my name and dutifully, I closed my eyes. Death was unnerving. Unnerving to, let's say, someone who hasn't been close friends with it since their first year at Hogwarts. To me, it was just a matter of time. To me, it was expected. To me … it was to be welcomed.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places nor any other contributing factor in Harry Potter. I'm not that lucky.

**IMPORTANT A/N**: Thanks to the few who reviewed the prologue! I enjoy reviews! Anyway, I do plan on continuing this story and updating every other day, if not every day. Oh, and just a note, I'm changing the genres of this fic from romance/drama to romance/horror. From here on out, there will be a lot of violent themes. **Please discontinue reading if you are too young, have a weak stomach, do not like rape/torture themes, etc**. Thanks!

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Chapter One

I wasn't dead. It was obvious because of the sharp, head-splitting, blood-curdling-scream-worthy pain that shot through the back of my head. And I did just that, scream that blood-curdling scream as tears began to roll down my face. I tried to move my hand to cup my head, but, for some reason, in what I could only fathom that I was in a drug-induced state, I couldn't. It took me a few minutes, however, to realize that the reason I couldn't move was because my hands were tied and by the feel of it, they were tied with a thick rope. Sobbing, I tried to twist my wrists, but the rope bit bitterly into my flesh, making me scream out again. Panting, I stopped my self-induced torture and my head dropped back to the damp, cold floor. I closed my eyes and let the coolness of the floor soothe my aching head. In moments, I was gone.

"Get up!" In my delusion, I barely heard the command. However, when I was yanked off my feet by my hair, reality, once again, set in. The pain in my head shot through my body again as the intruder dropped me to the floor. I didn't have my hands to brace my fall; I fell to the floor helplessly and cracked my chin, the blood filling my mouth instantly. I spit it the bittery copper tasting liquid to the floor, letting out another sob. I opened my eyes and what used to be a beyond dark room was lit up slightly by the open door at the left side of the room I was in. Using the light, I tried to turn my head to investigate who was in the room with me when I was kicked in my back and I felt the pain of ribs cracking. I cried out.

"Stop!" I tried to beg, but my abuser knelt beside me and grabbed my throat. He squeezed. I couldn't breathe.

"I don't know why they want to keep a Mudblood alive," the voice snarled in my ear as he squeezed my throat harder. I gasped for air. I heard him chuckle, as if he were having fun with his game, and suddenly let go. Sobbing, I rolled to my side and tried to grasp the air that my lungs had been neglected. It was hard. Especially when I was concentrating on what my prisoner had planned for me next. He didn't stand up. Instead, he grabbed my arm and rolled me back to face him. In the dim light, I could not see who he was, but I didn't care. I would close my eyes forever and not take his identity with me if he would just let me go.

"Please …" I started to beg again, my voice scratchy from the attack on my throat. He laughed aloud and put a fowl smelling finger to my lips.

"Sshh, Mudblood. Begging won't help your situation." He grasped my face in one of his massive hands and he laughed cruelly. Suddenly, I smelt his acrid breath within mere centimeters from my face. I tried not to recoil from the stench, but it was difficult. As his nose nuzzled my cheek, I had a feeling this was going to end badly.

"For a Mudblood, you're not bad looking. Well, at least I'm sure you weren't before Snape did a number on your face," he cackled. I blanched when he mentioned Professor Snape, but the man in question left my mind when I suddenly felt his free hand grope beneath my robes. I thrashed my body away from his hand and tears welled up in my eyes as I began to realize his intentions. He laughed and kissed my cheek, his facial hair attacking my already sensitive skin.

"Please …" I begged again. He lay on top of me, his legs weighing on top of mine, his hand still grasping my face. He didn't respond to my begging, but continued his exploration through the many folds of my robes. I whimpered as he finally found my bare legs and I could tell by the change in his breathing that he thought himself victorious. His rough finger tips found themselves traveling up my legs and as he began to become impatient, he found my most secretive area, and tugged my underwear down my legs. I thrashed again, attempted to kick my legs and I screamed. Loudly, I screamed.

"Shut up, you filthy Mudblood!" He spat, slapping me. I tasted blood again, but it didn't stop me from fighting him off.

"No!" I screamed and the perfect opportunity arose when his hand left my face for another slap. I bucked my head forward, not knowing if his was close to mine or not, but when our heads collided, I screamed in victory. He groaned and sat back, all of his weight bearing down on my small frame. I moaned in pain, but I could tell my legs were suddenly free. I attempted to kick him in the back of his head, but my muscles screamed at me to stop the sudden stretching movement. I was determined. Determined to not let this man rape me. I wasn't able to reach his head, but I extended my leg and, with all of my reserved strength, I kneed him in his spine. My heart sank when I realized it didn't work.

"You bitch!" He yelled, recovering from the head butt. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head up and slamming it down onto the floor. Impossibly, I didn't black out. I would have been grateful for that, knowing what was to come. I felt the warm sensation of blood flow down the back on my robes as the man laid back down on me. He snarled in my ear, shoved a hand up my robes again, found my area and shoved a finger into my dry center. I yelped in pain as he wiggled his finger. I tried kicking again, but he pinned my legs down.

"I want you to be awake for this, bitch," he laughed in my ear as his hand left my area. It dawned on me that he cast some sort of spell that disabled me the comfort of being out when he did what he came to do. I closed my eyes when I felt his stiff member press against my thigh. I sobbed, but it sounded funny coming from my dry throat. He just laughed as he bucked his hips forward. I screamed when he entered me, the dryness making the act just that much more painful. He moaned in pleasure as he began to thrust.

"You feel so good, Mudblood, so … _tight_" he crooned as his pace became faster. I screamed again and tried to wriggle away from him. He used a free hand to cup my face and hold my head to the floor as he began to pant because of his pleasure. He moaned again as he wildly bucked against my unwilling body. "Oh, yeah, oh _fuck_ yeah," he murmured into my ear. I turned my head from him and closed my eyes. I clenched my hands together, wishing my wrists were free so I could at least fight against this monster. Tears rolled down my cheeks as the man went on with his torture. I don't know how long I laid there, the beast shoving himself inside of me over and over again, but after what seemed like hours, he was off of me.

"What the _fuck_, Snape?" The man snarled in rage. My heart began to pound as I turned my head toward the voices.

"You were just supposed to look in on the witch, Vrandy!" Snape bellowed. Vrandy chuckled as I heard the subtle sound of clothing moving up flesh. I could only assume he placed his pants back onto his hips, where they should have stayed. I turned my head away from their voices and let out a silent sob. My virginity was gone, I realized, and nobody cared. Vrandy laughed huskily; I could tell in his voice that he wasn't done with me yet.

"If you would have only given me another minute or two, Snape …" Vrandy was cut off and all I could hear in their direction was some gurgling sounds.

"The girl was supposed to remain a virgin, Vrandy. You have compromised the Dark Lord's mission," Snape snarled. I heard Vrandy groan as Snape, what I could imagine, squeezed his throat. Vrandy sputtered and then a second later, I heard a body drop to the floor with a thud. I didn't hear anything else until the door slammed shut and I was, once again, left in darkness.


	3. Chapter 2

`Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places nor any other contributing factor in Harry Potter. I'm not that lucky.

A/N: First of all, thank you for the kind reviews everyone! Secondly, I've had 200+ hits on this story! I want to see more reviews! Pretty please! Thanks! Now on to the story …

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Chapter Two

I'm not sure how long I sat in the dank darkness. I didn't know whether it was morning or night; I never knew the time. I just know that when that door on my left opened again and the light flooded the entryway, it took every bit of reserve strength I had to scoot myself to the darkest corner of my small room. I huddled in the corner, staring in fear at the person standing in the doorway. He didn't enter right away, why I did not know. I was actually hoping that he would change his mind, turn around and walk away. Of course he didn't, however. He took a step into the room, pausing momentarily. Was it the stench of human waste that kept him from coming closer? Was it that I was spoiled now, no longer valuable for what Voldemort had in mind? I shuddered at the thought as Snape's words echoed through my mind. _"The girl was supposed to remain a virgin, Vrandy. You have compromised the Dark Lord's mission," _he had said. Did that mean he would kill me now? Was it that time?

The man, despite the stench, despite everything else, had walked full stride toward me. I covered my head with my hands, my breathing became shallow as I tried to disappear, tried to make myself unnoticeable. The man knew where I was, though. There was no hiding from the brute and the torture I was sure to endure in mere minutes. He probably heard how _good_ I felt, how _tight_ I was from Vrandy. He probably came to experience me for himself…

He stopped little less than five feet from where I crouched, but did not say anything. His face was masked in darkness, so I could not see who this intruder was. I could smell him though; he smelt clean, a scent I was envious of. He did not smell of pungent sweat and dirt, blood and destruction.

"Granger," he said suddenly. My head automatically popped up at the familiar authoritative voice. It was Snape. I started sobbing and huddled closer to the corner. This was the man that murdered Dumbledore, the man that betrayed everyone's trust, the man that helped Draco Malfoy escape a well-deserved fate. This was the man that, according to Vrandy, disfigured my face, although I have yet to look at myself since my capture.

"Stay away." I tried to make my statement sound threatening, but I just knew I sounded like a scared little girl. Surprisingly, Snape didn't laugh, didn't snarl, didn't do anything but stand there.

"Snape," a strangely accented voice said from the doorway. Snape's figure turned instantly, his wand arm outstretched. The man in the doorway instantly brought his hands up to show he was unarmed. "Whoa, boy," the man said. Snape lowered his wand, only by a fraction.

"What do you want, Bianci?" Snape snarled. The man sniggered, lowered his hands and took a step into the room.

"Malfoy is interested to see why you have been gone so long," Bianci stated. He began to whistle, as if taunting Snape, flung his hands behind his back and began to skip through the room. Snape snarled.

"I do not take orders from Malfoy, Bianci, nor do I care for people who do his bidding and you will do well to remember that! _Crucio_!" The Italian suddenly seized up, fell to the ground and writhed in pain. Surprisingly, he remained quiet through the torture of the Cruciatus curse. I couldn't watch the man quivering on the ground, the light capturing his handsome face screwed up in unbearable pain. I squeaked and tried to hide further in my corner.

It seemed to take forever for Snape to let up on his curse, but when he did, Bianci did not move. Much like Vrandy, he seemed dead, but someone would come later to collect his still-breathing form. Snape turned back to me, bent down and grabbed my forearm in a vise grip. I screamed and tried to kick at him. I was successful; I was able to, miraculously, contact his knee cap with a relatively hard kick. He let me go with an _Oomph_ and I dropped back to the floor. I eyed the open door and, despite that my hands were tied behind my back, I managed to stand on my weakened legs and try, lamely at that, to run towards the light. My attempt at least made me feel slightly better, but Snape caught up to me quickly and grasped both of my forearms with his hands. When he tried to walk me out of the room, I dropped to my knees. I was going to give him a fight, especially if my life depended on it.

--

The light stung my eyes. I guess after living however long in a small, lightless room, that would do it to you. But it really hurt. So much, in fact, that I kept my eyes tightly closed. Snape dragged me up stairs, through hallways; I heard sneers, hoots and growls of the men surrounding us.

"Damn, Snape, you gonna fuck that?" One hollered while the men around him laughed in appreciation.

"What a pretty Mudblood!" Another screeched and he reached out and squeezed my arse. I squeaked and shrank back from the man's touch. We stopped then and, although I did not open my eyes, I could tell the men surrounding us were afraid of Snape. The hooting, name-calling and laughing stopped instantly. Snape began dragging me along the floor again. I wasn't sure where we were headed, but I was sure I didn't want to know.

It seemed like forever that we walked; well he walked while dragging me, in silence. Finally he stopped and knocked on an obviously solid wood door. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was still too bright. I whimpered and closed them again. The door opened and a rush of warmth greeted me. I nearly melted at the feeling.

"Severus," a silk voice greeted. Malfoy. I gritted my teeth as he continued to talk to Snape. "Ah, you brought our little … _pet._" Snape didn't say anything for a minute, but when he did, I could tell he had a little smirk on his face. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"Yes, Lucius," Snape said smoothly. I heard the door open wider and Snape dragged me inside. He set me down in front of a roaring fire and I, once again, attempted to open my eyes. The light was much dimmer in this room, so I was able to keep them open long enough to inspect the space I was in. It was grand, to say the least. The fireplace behind me was large, large enough to, let's say, brew three different potions at once in the largest cauldrons. The fireplace was made of red brick and it reminded me of pictures I had seen of the cooking fireplaces the colonists used in the 17th and 18th centuries. In front of the fireplace sat two massive black leather arm chairs, big enough that even Hagrid would sit comfortably. The floor I was lying on was a soft burgundy carpet and it, combined with the intense blaze of the fire, made me want to curl up in a ball and fall asleep. My tied wrists kept me from seeing above the armchairs but I didn't really care as long as the men left me alone.

"Cut her wrists loose, Pettigrew," I heard Snape say. My heart pounded as Pettigrew, the man who betrayed my best friend's parents, came forward with a small dagger, his demented eyes focused on my face, my chest and, as he was behind me, I'm sure my arse. As soon as my hands were loose, I screamed in rage and, despite the unbearable pain in my arms, I punched him in the face. He stumbled back a couple of steps, shocked, but gathered his demeanor quick. Surprisingly, he didn't approach me to strike me back, but, instead, looked toward the place Snape and Malfoy stood. Obviously one of them motioned to Pettigrew in affirmation because he took a step toward me, raised the small dagger and plunged it into my thigh. I screamed and grasped the dagger's hilt. Pettigrew smiled cruelly down at me and watched as I tried to yank it out of my leg. Tears poured down my face and it dawned on me that I wasn't in this room, in front of this cozy fire because my captors had a change of heart. I was here to get tortured some more, for my blood to forever stain the beautiful, soft carpet. Gathering the little strength I had left, I pulled the dagger out of my leg and dropped it to the floor. Thank God my vision started to get blurry. Thank God I started feeling faint. Thank God I wouldn't know what they would do to my body.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places nor any other contributing factor in Harry Potter. I'm not that lucky.

A/N: Sorry it took a few extra weeks to post this chapter. Real life hasn't been kind to me as of late. Thanks for sticking in there. Also, 500+ hits on this story and 13 reviews (and I LOVE my reviewers) … Review please, especially if you're just lurking in the shadows. I'd love to see if you actually enjoy the story (well, as much as you can enjoy torture, that is).

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Chapter Three

I screamed. I'm not sure if it was because I was dreaming or if it was because I was in the hands of the cruelest men in Great Britain, but I was sure it was because an ice cold bucket of water happened to find itself on my head and in my lap. I awoke then, back to reality I came. The water was frigid, well below freezing and I hurriedly pushed the puddle from my lap. I gasped from the cold.

"Really now, Lucius, was that necessary? You've drenched the floor," came Snape's smooth voice. I heard an appreciative giggle above my head and I tried to not to turn toward the sound.

"She'd been out too long. Besides, the stench on her was beginning to nauseate me," Malfoy sneered. I bowed my head in humiliation. It wasn't _my_ fault I had been locked up for however long with no loo, no shower and bleeding … Suddenly, my head was yanked back by someone grabbing my hair. I yelped in pain as my heart began to pound again. Malfoy grinned down at me, his smiling face had a madman's look to it. "Do you suppose, Severus, that we could have fun with this one?" He asked. My body began to shake as he pulled harder.

"No, Lucius. I already have to punish one imbecile for violating her. Don't make me do it again," Snape said, amusement present in his voice. Malfoy turned quickly toward him and glared.

"The Dark Lord would have your balls if you did anything to me, Severus," Lucius threatened. My eyes swiveled toward Snape and was surprised to see that hatred replaced the amusement.

"Perhaps, but he'd have your head," Snape promised. "Vrandy didn't cum in her, Lucius. She's still valuable to the Dark Lord." Malfoy gritted his teeth at Snape's words.

"You mean to you," Malfoy accused, pushing my head and standing up straight. I pushed my body away from Malfoy, the stab wound in my leg yelling at me to stop the effort. I didn't care, though. I swept the pain aside as Malfoy and Snape drew their wands. Snape took a step toward Malfoy.

"If I am chosen to do His bidding, Lucius, then yes, she's valuable to me, as well." There was venom in Snape's voice as he said those words. Anyone I knew, especially if he had that tone in class, would cringe and escape to the nearest exit. Malfoy, however, did no such thing; Snape didn't seem surprised.

"You are not the favorite, Severusssss," Malfoy drew Snape's name out in a cringe-and-duck-in-a-corner sort of way. All Snape did was glare.

"I never said I was, Lucius, however, I seem to be the most competent," Snape snarled. Malfoy hoisted his head high as he raised his wand an inch.

"I can put a bastard on the bitch, Snape!" Malfoy roared. I trembled. That's what this was all about … a child … with me? I couldn't fathom as to why they would want a child with … with _me_? I scooted closer to the farthest corner of the massive room. Snape smirked.

"Of course you can," Snape cooed him, put his hands behind his back and stalked toward the back of the couch. "But …" At that moment, the flames in the fireplace turned green and roared high into the chimney.

"Snape … Malfoy … Our Master wants both of you in his presence. And bring the girl. Make sure she's … presentable." I couldn't tell who it was in the fireplace, the voice was unrecognizable, but his intent was not. Was this the part of the nightmare where the bad guy had the good guy in captivity so long that the bad guy would enjoy killing/torturing/raping the good guy? I shrank back as Malfoy approached me with the most gruesome of satanic smiles.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he murmured, grasping my forearm and picking me up forcibly. "Izzy!" A poorly dressed, malnutritioned house elf popped into the room, but did not hesitate to shrink from her master.

"Izzy is here doing your wishing, sir," she stumbled. Malfoy dragged me along the floor and approached the frightened slave. SPEW instantly came to mind and I smirked grimly at the thought of my best friends' horrid nickname for my house elf movement.

"Is the bath ready yet?" he snarled. The elf nodded and squeaked as Malfoy kicked at her. "Well?" She disappeared and instantly reappeared with ten other equally malnutritioned and poorly dressed house elves. I nearly melted at the sight of the bronze-colored, claw-footed bath tub, gentle waves of steam floating from the top. I glanced at Snape, who had lowered his wand arm but was, no doubt, ready to duel if the opportunity arose. He didn't look at me, didn't look as if he cared about what was to happen to me; he just kept his gaze focused on Malfoy. I turned back toward Malfoy as the house elves began to pop away. Izzy, the last to go, looked at me with an expression that said, "Izzy is sorry to be doing this to miss." As soon as the house elf went, Malfoy grabbed my hair and made me stand up. I yelped, grabbed his hands with mind and tried, with the little strength I had, to pinch my nails into his skin. It was a good try, I told myself, but I could tell that it made little difference to Malfoy; either he was used to nail-to-skin contact or my strength storage unit was seriously depleted. I opted for both explanations when he began, using his free hand, to rip my already worn clothing from my body. I shrieked and tried to get away from him. It was no use; he pulled harder, ripping some strands of my hair from my scalp.

"Stop it, Mudblood, or I'll make this even more unbearable for you," Malfoy mumbled in my ear, his eyes never leaving Snape's face. Snape's eyes never left Malfoy's, even as he continued to undress me. It was easy for Malfoy to discard the nasty clothing, but nasty or not, it was safe to me. Soon, I stood naked in front of my ex-Potions professor and my enemy's mentally ill father. It was a dreadful feeling, especially as Malfoy's hand snaked its way around my now-bony middle and grabbed my breast. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Lucius …." Snape said in a slow, deadly voice. Malfoy let go of my breast at once, but his maniacal laughter floated thickly through the air. He didn't respond to Snape's threatening slither, but picked up my fighting body, took a step or two toward the tub and dropped me in. My mind was blank when my skin hit the water, but then I felt my flesh burning as I quickly resurfaced and tried to scramble out of the scalding water. I screamed when Malfoy shoved me back in the water. Tears poured down my face as I attempted to get out of the burning water again.

"Please!" I screamed as he pushed me in again.

"Sorry, Mudblood. We have to try to rub as much of that stench and mud off you as we can," Malfoy said, the nasty grin on his face teling me he wasn't truly sorry. As he brought a wet towel full of foul smelling soap to my skin, I could feel, with the combination of scrubbing and burning water, my skin peeling off. He scrubbed my sensitive skin with all the strength he could muster, and he wasn't pleasant about it. The combination of the scorching water and the scrubbing had me crying and screaming. I wasn't even opposed to begging for my already ill-fated life.

Malfoy dunked my head under the water again and I got a lung-full of hot water. I sputtered as soon as he let me resurface, gasping for the air my burning lungs desperately needed. He lathered a rather sticky shampoo in my hair and dunked me again. Suddenly, it was over. Malfoy's hand left my head and I quickly leapt to my feet, gasping for more air. I tried to cover my nakedness as much as I could, but the prying eyes of Malfoy did little to really cover me.

"Out," Malfoy demanded, reaching for me. I scrambled out of the water, far from his grasp and bumped into something solid. Humanly solid. I glanced up and stepped forward when I realized it was Snape whom I bumped.

"No more games, Lucius. The Dark Lord wants to see her. Let the girl dry herself and give her the robe, though nothing else. I'm sure he'll want to … make sure she's suitable," Snape said, crossing his arms over his chest. I swung around to judge Malfoy's reaction, in hopes that he's do what Snape said without comment. He did, though not without glaring daggers at the man.

"Your almost humane handling of this girl is highly predictable, Severusssss," Malfoy hissed, taking a step forward and throwing a worn, holey towel at me. Suddenly, he smirked. "Which is why I have faith I'll be the one to do the Dark Lord's bidding."

Severus scowled. "Not likely," he stated. Malfoy was about to retort when the doors to the room flung open. I turned quickly and backed toward the farthest wall, using the towel to cover what I could.

"The Dark Lord requests the girl's presence, as yours, gentlemen," the man barked. I squeaked when Snape turned toward me and raised his wand. A robe suddenly flew into my hands and without word, I put it on. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to his side.

"After you, Redorff," Snape said, squeezing my arm tightly. I gritted my teeth against the pain that shot up my arm and down my leg near my stab wound. Snape started walking out after the short man, while I was forced to limp along side him. I could not even fathom in my adrenaline-pumped, scared-out-of-my-wits state what would be my outcome after meeting with Voldemort. I only hoped I would live through whatever decision he made.


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